The Empty House I

We walked all morning over furze and grass, And climbed steep tufted heights against the sun, Went down the shaven tracks, where rabbits pass, And unalarmed the scuttling pheasants run.

There were no men in sight, save at a farm, Where, far below, we saw, about midday, Two ploughmen lying lapped about with warm Rank growings of the hedge. Green buds of may Hung over them unopened, primroses Were yellow round their bodies. On we went, Up a long slope through tangled coppices, Where half-fledged hazels on the pathway leant, Till suddenly we saw through thinning boughs The chimneys of an old long-lonely house.